Mistletoe
by DearieMate
Summary: ok, let's try that again. Shamless christmas fluff, one-shot.


Christmas was coming, and the streets of Storybrooke were bustling with shoppers searching for last minute gifts. Emma tugged her hat down tighter over her ears, and made her way towards home. It'd been a long night at the Sheriff's station, and all she wanted was to go home and sleep.

She had never really liked Christmas.

To a young and foster-home-skipping Emma Swan, the holiday season was just another painful reminder that she was alone in the world with no place to call home. No mantle to decorate with stockings stitched with family member's names, no one to kindle a fire as she watched Christmas movies on television, no ugly handmade ornaments saved from throughout the years to hang on the tree, no one to tuck her in on Christmas Eve, no one to celebrate with.

It wasn't until she came to Storybrooke and got to know her son, her parents, her real _family, _that she began to feel that little something she'd been missing all along at Christmas-_hope. _

She had plenty of reason to celebrate now. She had parents that loved her, _wanted her, _a son who looked up to her, an entire town of people that trusted her and needed her, not to mention a certain pirate who'd captured her heart on that stupid beanstalk almost two years ago.

She'd tried to explain to him the many different customs of the Christmas season, much to his bewilderment. (_Swan, you don't honestly believe that a fat man in a red suit delivers presents to all the children of the world in one night…bloody ridiculous)._

But as much as he questioned the ways of this realm at times, there were certain customs that he found much more appealing. Like for instance, mistletoe.

(Oh, darling, _now _you've caught my attention.)

She smiled at the memory as she made her way up the stairs towards her parent's apartment. It was late morning, and by now her parents would be gone running errands, leaving the apartment nice and quiet for her to get some much needed rest.

Her eyes immediately noticed a small bunch of greenery nailed to the front of the apartment door. Recognizing the plant instantly, she shook her head and smiled, slowly opening the door.

The apartment was alight with twinkling Christmas lights hanging from the bar and around the windows. The family Christmas tree had taken center stage in the living room. It was truly a beautiful sight, and her heart squeezed in her chest, at the memory of that lonely little girl she once was.

It took her a moment, but she began to notice something else. Everywhere she looked, there was more mistletoe. Hung from the light in the kitchen, above the doorways, the windows, even lining the steps up to her bedroom.

There was only one explanation for this.

"Killian?"

She heard a shuffling sound, the creaking of wood beneath feet, and then there he was, looking at her from the top of the stairs. He smiled at her with such sweetness-such happiness. And then it turned into something else altogether.

He jogged down the stairs and instinctively pulled her towards him, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Morning, love."

Emma smiled. "Morning. Been busy today?"

"I've no idea what you mean."

"The mistletoe, Killian."

"Ahh," he said as he planted another kiss to the inside of her wrist, "yes, I was busy preparing that."

(Damn him).

"You do know that it's only good for one kiss, right?"

He stepped away from her and took her hand in his, leading her towards the kitchen.

"Well, Swan, I figured that much. So I decided to take matters into my own hand."

She couldn't help but laugh a little at his poorly timed pun (stupid adorable pirate…what even was her life right now?)

He leaned against the counter top and pulled her towards him, looking up to alert her to the fact that there was yet another mistletoe above them.

"Would you look at that," he muttered. "Looks like I owe you another kiss, darling."

"It would seem so," she said, no longer hiding the blush in her cheeks or the dumb flirty smile inching its way across her features.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Is that it?" she asked.

He laughed then (at the sound she lost all ability to breathe).

"As you can see, love, we have quite a ways to go. I plan on using my kisses wisely."

Her hand found it's way to his cheek, and her thumb caressed his jaw. "Is that so?"

He smiled, eyes lit with something sultry and mischievous and so undeniably sexy.

"Aye."

(Later, when they eventually make it upstairs, she decides it's _her _turn to do the kissing. Sleep be damned).


End file.
